


Under the Weather

by thewayshedreamed



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas, MAAS Sarah J. - Works
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, NESSIAN AU, Prompt Fill, Sickfic, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Tumblr Prompt, University AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:01:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27000895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewayshedreamed/pseuds/thewayshedreamed
Summary: University auCassian shows up at Nesta's apartment to work on their joint thesis project, only to find Nesta is super sick. He stays and cares for her.
Relationships: Nesta Archeron/Cassian
Comments: 4
Kudos: 48





	Under the Weather

Nesta was so sick and tired of being sick and tired. She had made it through the acceptance phase, which was impressive considering it was often the hardest for her. Today made day three, and she was officially in the resentment phase of her illness. She was taking a mental inventory of all the others who had attended the small gathering of friends from her senior thesis class, noting how most of them remained well despite their less than stellar hand hygiene that night. She, on the other hand, was a meticulous hand washer. By her very nature, she wasn’t the type to remain in super close proximity with others’ needlessly, either. How she was the one who fell sick (thanks to Claire) was beyond her. 

So, here she was, a senior at Prythian University and mere months from graduation, sick as a dog and banned from the research lab until she went 48 hours without fever. She tried not to think about that fact too often as to spare herself the mild panic it occasioned. She repeated her current mantra for the umpteenth time that day.

_You have plenty of time. You have plenty of time. You have plenty of time._

The only way she found comfort from the chills and fever-induced cold was on the couch, surrounded by cushions, and wrapped as tightly as possible in her mother’s quilt. At this point she thought herself to be a glorified burrito, but unfortunately, she was far more infectious.

She was finally starting to doze as she heard a polite, yet firm, rapping on her apartment door. Her eyes flew open as she scanned her brain frantically for several things: the day of the week, the time of day, and who, based on that information, could possibly be here to disrupt her rest.

Just before she decided to close her eyes again and ignore them, she heard a deep, friendly voice through the door. They weren’t speaking to her directly, but the voice was no less familiar.

“Hey, man. Yeah, doing good. You too!”

Even though she didn’t hear the other party’s end of the conversation, she knew Cassian was engaging in pleasant small talk with one of her neighbors. It could have been any one of them; he seemed to have more rapport with most of them than she managed after years of renting her place. He ran into any one of them at random on Wednesday afternoons when he met Nesta to work on their thesis together.

She launched herself from the couch, wincing at the aches that wracked through her body in the process. Dehydration had her vision blurring; dark spots working their way into her visual field. She steadied herself on the arm of the couch, cursing herself for forgetting to cancel this week’s thesis session with him.

He knocked again, this time a little louder. She glared at the door as if he could see her, hobbling toward him with her arms wrapped tightly around her body as she moved. She cracked the door open enough to peak out at him, and she felt a sudden rush of guilt at wasting his time. He was standing there with a small smile on his face, thumbs hooked through the bottom of his backpack straps.

“Hi,” she croaked.

His smile faltered immediately, his face morphing into an expression of genuine concern.

“Nesta? Are you okay?” He pressed gently on the door to get a better look at her, but he made no attempt to cross the threshold without her invitation.

“So sick. Got it from Claire. I forgot to tell you.” Her voice was raspy from disuse, and she only had the energy for short statements or sentence fragments.

He didn’t look the least bIt offended at her forgetfulness as he scanned her for signs of the severity of her symptoms.

“Don’t mention it. I’m fine. Who’s here looking after you? Ask them if they need me to run and pick up anything.”

The widespread aching applied to her facial features as well, as proven by the sensations she felt as her face slid into a look of confusion.

“It’s just me, Cassian. You know I live alone.”

He scratched the back of his neck, showing his discomfort.

“Yeah, I know. I just figured…” he trailed off, a new thought flashing across his handsome face. “Can I come in? I’ll get you settled before I head home. It’s the least I could do since I’m already here.”

Nesta didn’t have it in her to respond vocally. She simply walked away, door ajar, and made her way back to her couch. Had she been feeling even a fraction better, she may have refused him, but she knew Cassian well enough to know his stubbornness rivaled her own.

She flopped down into the cushions, pulling her pillow close to her chest. She reached blindly down her body in search of her quilt as shivers ran through her, letting out a small whimper when she couldn’t reach them. She grimaced at such an outward expression of vulnerability in front of another person.

A quiet chuckle sounded from above her as she felt her quilt being pulled over her legs and body.

“Oh, she’s pitiful, I see.” Mirth danced through each and every word.

She opened one eye, glaring at him through the side of it. He laughed openly at that as he lifted her feet to tuck the quilt beneath him. Only her mother had ever done that for her before today. She felt a pang of longing rush through her chest, but she took a deep breath and pushed it away.

“I’m going to do a quick inventory of supplies. Where’s your medicine cabinet?”

Her eyes were already squeezed shut again, sleep sinking its claws into her consciousness.

“Bathroom,” she muttered into her pillow, before sleep took her once more.

——

She awoke to the jingling of keys in her lock, followed by heavy footsteps and the unmistakable crinkling of plastic bags. Her body tensed, forgetting for a few seconds who was entering her apartment. A deep voice was muttering under its breath, cursing the loudness of the bags as he deposited things on the coffee table.

Lifting her head from her pillow, she glanced over to see Cassian’s massive form hunched over the coffee table as he attempted to quietly unload his haul. He noticed her attention within seconds and greeted her with a broad, friendly smile. Somehow, Nesta didn’t think it was the fever warming her cheeks this time.

“Hey sweetheart,” he whispered, totally unaffected by the glare she shot at him for the nickname. He raised his voice slightly, comparable to a murmur, and she felt herself flush all over again as he kneeled next to her. “I hope you don’t mind, but I took your house key off the hook when I went out. I didn’t want to leave it unlocked while I was at the pharmacy, and I didn’t have the heart to wake you.”

She nodded, letting him know she couldn’t give a shit less in her current state. He continued.

“You had some ibuprofen in your cabinet, but that’s about it. I got you some cold & flu meds to help with your other symptoms. It’s acetaminophen-based, so the pharmacist said you can alternate ibuprofen with it to help out with the aches and stuff if you need to.” His eyes scanned her face, making sure he had her attention. She witnessed a faint blush across his tan cheeks, her heart warming at the care he’d taken in selecting medicine for her.

“I also picked up some tissues and cough drops. Oh, and some menthol rub in case you get congested while you sleep. Have you been drinking much water?”

It took her several seconds to realize he was asking a question and that her participation was necessary. All she could offer him was a pathetic shake of her head.

“I figured as much. I got some of this hydration drink to help you rehydrate. I know it’s technically for kids, but I made do with the options I had,” he explained.

“Cassian. You didn’t have to do that,” she started. She watched as something similar to hurt flashed across his features, and she realized her tone hadn’t expressed a shred of gratitude to her lab partner. He was going far beyond the call of duty as her thesis co-investigator, and she didn’t want him to think she wasn’t appreciative.

“That came out wrong. Sorry, I’m all fuzzy. Thank you. You’re a lifesaver,” she supplied.

A small smile graced his face again. “It’s not a problem, Nes. Really,” he replied, as he rested his large hand on her upper arm. His eyes widened suddenly, locking onto her own in alarm.

“You’re burning up,” he stated as he pulled the blanket away from her.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, feeling assaulted by the chill that gripped her.

“Your fever feels higher than I thought.” He rested the back of his hand on her forehead. Unsatisfied, he brushed the baby hair away from her face, leaned forward, and pressed his plush lips to the spot his hand had just vacated.

She flinched, not out of offense, but because it was something her mother used to do anytime her, Elain, or Feyre was sick. She claimed it was easiest to tell if the girls were running a fever that way, the lips being far more sensitive than her hands. Nesta wasn’t aware that others grew up doing the same.

Realizing what he’d done and the flinch that immediately followed, Cassian bolted upright with a guilty expression.

“I’m sorry,” he lamented, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It’s just my mom… she used to check my fever like that when I was little. I wasn’t thinking.” He started to move away from her, but her small hand gripped his forearm. His hazel eyes locked on hers, and she watched as he noticed the tears streaming down her face.

“Nes,” he whispered, his brows pulled together in worry.

“No. It’s okay,” she assured him. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable. It’s just that no one’s done that since… since my mom passed away. Any of this, really.” She gestured to the medicines and other items on her table. “I usually just fend for myself. I think I got a little overwhelmed is all. It’s actually really, really nice to be cared for. Thank you.”

She originally thought her small whimper was as much vulnerability as she was willing to show today. She’d been very wrong, apparently. She blamed it on her fever.

The tension in his shoulders practically melted away from him, his face relaxing back into the friend she knew. “I’m glad you think so,” he said, as he stood to go find her thermometer. He returned with it in hand, looking at her with raised brows as if to say “open.”

She obliged, her eyes crossing as she attempted to read the digital number on the tiny screen. He huffed a laugh at her expense, but he was interrupted by the loud beeping of the thermometer.

“102 degrees. Sorry, Nes, but the blanket has to come off for a little bit. You’re basically cooking in there.”

He pushed a glass of bland electrolytes into her hand, urging her to drink. She took a few small sips and set it softly on the coffee table. She flopped back onto her pillow, pulling her arms tightly around the quilt and hoping to absorb any remaining warmth from it that she could.

Cassian pulled the blanket away from her body but chose wisely not to fight her grip from around it.

“I’ll make a deal with you,” he began, as he eased himself to a sitting position on the carpet. “You get some more rest while those meds kick in, and we’ll reassess the fever when you wake up. If it breaks, I’ll give all quilt privileges back.”

He leaned back on the couch cushion near her body, his shoulder blades almost grazing her own as she snuggled into her pillow. She was facing away from him and toward the back of the couch to shield her face from any and all light.

“How am I supposed to get rest when I’m freezing?” she whined pitifully. She couldn’t bring herself to care that she sounded much like a petulant toddler.

At her words, he leaned farther back into the cushion so that their shoulder blades were flush. She felt his laugh rumble through him as a result of their proximity, but more importantly, she felt his body heat seeping into her.

“Does this help at all?” he asked.

“Mhm,” she mumbled, “but you can’t just sit there forever.”

“I can do what I want, Archeron,” he teased. “Plus, I’m here to work on thesis. I’ve been working on a formula that will populate all of our data entry into their respective graphs without us having to do it manually. I was going to blow your mind with it today, but I’ll settle for fine tuning until you’re coherent next week.” She could hear the smile in his voice and imagined his laptop perched on his long, jean-clad legs as he worked.

Contentment settled through her bones, and she slipped into oblivion once again.

——

Nesta rejoined the land of the living several hours later, she assumed, feeling almost entirely human again. She was still clutching the blanket, thanking her lucky stars for the deep breaths she was able to take in the absence of congestion. Even more noteworthy was the refreshing scent that surrounded her— something like smoky sandalwood and fresh air.

She eased her eyes open, feeling completely mortified at the shift in her position. At some point during her nap, she had rolled toward Cassian and was now wrapped around his shoulders. Her knees were tucked close to his right arm, her torso against his broad back, and most embarrassingly, her face was tucked tightly into the side of his left arm.

She didn’t dare move, hoping she could pretend to be asleep long enough to shift away from him. Delayed by her foggy state, she became aware of a comforting weight resting against her waist. Her eyes moved over his shoulder, glancing down her body. They fell on Cassian’s dozing face, head rested back and angled toward her, as if he’d fallen asleep while checking on her.

Nesta was incredibly aware of their closeness, especially upon realizing his face was less than a foot away from her own. She studied his face, softened by sleep, and let a small grin spread across her face. Cassian had cared for her all afternoon, working on their joint project, and deserved every ounce of sleep he was capturing at the moment. At least, that’s how she justified staying tucked close, afraid to disturb him.

To her horror, his eyes fluttered open, catching her in the act of admiration. Rather than looking off-put or creeped out, he offered her a small smile in return and angled his head even more toward her.

“Feel better?” he asked, his voice rough from sleep.

“Like a new person, actually.”

He learned forward, repeating his action from earlier in the afternoon. Warmth coursed through her at the feeling of his lips against her temple, noting that they lingered just a bit longer than necessary before he lifted his head.

“I think your fever broke, Nes,” he supplied, twisting his body to rest his arm across her waist as he spoke.

“Good news all around, I guess,” she murmured, her smile still in its rightful place.

He cleared his throat, looking almost sheepish now. It was the most adorable thing Nesta had ever seen.

“I got you some soup earlier. I could heat that up if you want—“ He made to stand as he spoke, but she interrupted by grabbing his forearm.

“Wait. Stay?” She was just as surprised as he was when the words left her. “I don’t think I’m hungry yet.”

His face softened, eyes scanning her for any apprehension at all. Finding none, he smiled down at her in response.

“Of course.”

Before he could settle back onto the carpet fully, she tugged his forearm in a silent request to join her on the couch. He eased behind her, wrapping his arm tightly around her waist to tug her closer to his body. She relaxed back into him as he nuzzled his nose into her messy braid, just behind her ear.

She couldn’t remember a time where she’d been so comfortable, and she felt another rush of gratitude at being cared for in a way she hadn’t been since her mother died. The feeling wasn’t something she could properly articulate, but it meant the world to her. It almost felt like… love.

Cassian huffed a laugh into her hair, mirth returning to his tone. “I was wondering if I’d get a turn to be big spoon,” he teased. She should have known he wasn’t going to let her pretend she hadn’t wrapped herself around him only a handful of minutes ago.

She chuckled in return, finding that she wasn’t embarrassed by his teasing as she’d originally thought possible.

“I guess it’s only fair,” she joked, as she settled into him just a little more.

He gripped her a fraction tighter, his nose brushing against the sensitive skin behind her ear. She groaned as his arm left her waist, but she stopped it quickly when she realized what he was doing. He was covering her up again, true to his word, and tucking her in tightly. His arm assumed its original position, and a contented sigh left her of its own accord.

“Thank you, again, Cassian. For everything,” she whispered.

His only response was a tight squeeze around her middle before they both eased back into a deep, peaceful sleep.


End file.
